


Yours, Mine, Always

by mikkimouse



Series: Yes, Sir [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, M/M, Mention of Captivity, Nightmares, Season/Series 01, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 14:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11969091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse
Summary: Shiro glanced at Keith's hands, covered by the black fingerless gloves he'd always worn. Was his soulmark still there? Had it vanished when Shiro's had been taken? Or had it scarred over, as though Shiro had died?Were they even still soulmates, or had the Galra managed to rip that away from him, too?





	Yours, Mine, Always

**Author's Note:**

> I had every intention of having this posted the day after I posted the first part of this story. However, about an hour and a half after I posted said first part, my roommate went into labor. She's fine, the baby is fine, but as you might have guessed, the amount I was able to write took a nosedive. XD 
> 
> Thank you again to [domesticated-chaos](http://domesticated-chaos.tumblr.com/) and [cobrilee](http://cobrilee.tumblr.com/) for their beta work; seriously, thank you both so much for kicking me into showing the angst I was dragging my feet on.

Shiro stood on the desert bluff, breathing in the morning air. _Earth's_ morning air. He had no idea how long it had been—months, years—but it settled something in him to be home again, to be standing outside of his own accord. When he'd awakened this morning to find himself sprawled across a beat-up couch with no guards, no locks, and no bonds holding him down, he'd had to walk straight outside before he broke down, for fear he'd wake the other people asleep in the little shack. 

He scanned the desert landscape, glinting red and gold and brown in the sunlight, looking for any sign of the Garrison coming for him, but there was nothing. Apparently they'd made their escape. For a split second, he felt the ghost of the band around his chest, holding him down, and he shuddered. 

Memories jumbled in his mind, the night before mixing with another time he'd been held down, and phantom pain lanced down his right arm. 

Shiro stared at his right hand, a mixture of black and silver metal, and flexed his fingers. It moved like his hand, it felt like his hand, but it wasn't. And he couldn't even remember when he'd lost it, only that it had been taken from him. 

He rubbed his thumb over the inside of his right wrist, where his soulmark used to be, and closed his eyes against the ache in his chest. 

Footsteps crunched on the sand behind him, and Shiro's heart seized. He had only seconds to compose himself before a hand landed on his shoulder. 

"It's good to have you back." 

_God_ , he'd missed Keith's voice. "It's good to be back," Shiro said, leaving the _with you_ silent. 

He looked to his side, where Keith stood, so outstandingly different from the cadet Shiro had left behind. He wasn't much taller, but his leanness looked more like compact muscle rather than the lankiness he'd had at the Garrison. His hair had grown out, far shaggier and longer in the back than it had been, and his grey eyes held an unfamiliar harshness that only softened when he turned to Shiro. 

Shiro grasped his right wrist by habit before he remembered that the thing he was grasping wasn't there anymore. 

From the way Keith's eyes flicked down, he'd caught the gesture. 

Involuntarily, Shiro glanced at Keith's hands, covered by the black fingerless gloves he'd always worn. Was his soulmark still there? Had it vanished when Shiro's had been taken? Or had it scarred over, as though Shiro had died? 

Were they even still soulmates, or had the Galra managed to rip that away from him, too? 

Shiro desperately didn't want to know the answer to that question. 

"So...what _happened_ out there?" Keith asked. "Where were you?" 

Shiro wanted to laugh bitterly. He'd been wondering the same thing all morning. "I wish I could tell you. My head's still pretty scrambled. I was on an alien ship, but somehow I escaped. It's all a blur." 

And the snatches he _could_ remember, he really didn't want to. 

He turned to Keith. He should ask. Have this conversation now, get it over with. 

"How did you know to come save me when I crashed?" he asked instead, because he was a coward.

He allowed himself to hope. Maybe it was their bond. Maybe, once he'd gotten close enough to Earth again, Keith had just... _known_ , and had come looking for his soulmate.

Instead, a complicated series of emotions crossed Keith's face, and then it settled into that new, unfamiliar harshness. "You should come see this."

He turned away to walk back to the little shack, and didn't mention their bond at all. 

Shiro wasn't sure if that was worse.

***

If he'd hoped for a distraction, Shiro really couldn't have asked for a better one than a sentient blue robot lion, a Galra warship, and a wormhole to the other side of the universe. Really, distraction was an _understatement_. It made it easy to push down his concerns, easy to avoid the conversation he didn't want to have when there were so many other pressing things vying for his focus. 

By the time they'd managed to form Voltron once _without_ the threat of imminent danger, Shiro just wanted to eat a full meal that didn't end in a food fight and sleep for a week. Hell, at this point, he didn't even particularly care if it happened in that order. 

He left the lounge with every intention of heading straight for the kitchen and getting something to eat before he went to his bunk, but heard footfalls in the corridor behind him. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for whatever conversation was ahead. 

"Shiro, wait," Keith said.

That it _was_ Keith made it both easier and harder to smile. "Hey, what is it?" 

Keith strode up to him, brow furrowed like he was determined to say something, but it melted into concern once he got closer. "You look like hell." 

Shiro snorted. "It's almost like I came off a year of Galra imprisonment to be conscripted into an intergalactic war. Doesn't leave much time for beauty sleep."

Keith winced. 

"That was a joke," Shiro explained. 

"It's not funny." Keith crossed his arms. "You're going to get some food, right?" 

Shiro gestured down the hall with his helmet. "I'm on my way to the kitchen right now, and then straight to my bunk after, I promise." 

Of course, the chance of him actually getting to sleep without nightmares was hopelessly slim, but Shiro could get a few hours, at least. Enough to keep him going. 

Keith fell into step beside him on the way to the kitchen, though he didn't say anything. Shiro was suddenly, painfully reminded of so many times they'd walked together at the Garrison in companionable silence. 

_Why did you get kicked out of the Garrison?_ Shiro wanted to ask. _What did they do to you? What did_ you _do while I was gone?_

But asking Keith to open up meant he would have to as well, and Shiro wasn't sure he could handle that right now. "Going to make sure I actually eat?" he asked lightly. 

"Someone has to," Keith said. 

"It's not like I have anywhere to run off to," Shiro pointed out. 

Keith cut a sideways glance at him. "You were the only one of us in your armor this morning, and I know you couldn't have slept in it." 

Shiro tensed. He hadn't realized Keith might know what that meant, although on reflection, he probably should've. "You heard Allura. We have to be ready to go at a moment's notice." 

"Yeah, but you also need _sleep_ ," Keith said. "Which you have a habit of forgetting." 

If only that were the case. If only they were having this conversation for the same reason they had back at the Garrison, because Shiro was working too hard and too late. "Believe me, I'm not forgetting that."

Keith's face softened, and the naked concern in his eyes cut like a knife. "Shiro...what did they _do_ to you?" 

Shiro shifted his weight, blocking his right arm from view. As though it even mattered; Keith had seen what it could do, just as all the others had. 

"No. I'm sorry," Keith said hastily. "I didn't mean that you had to tell me."

Shiro shook his head. "I'd tell you if I could," he said, and was surprised with how much he meant it. "But it's still all a mess up there, just bits and pieces." 

Keith rested his hand on Shiro's shoulder and squeezed. "It's okay. Really. I'm just glad you escaped." 

"Me, too," Shiro said.

He glanced at Keith's hand, covered by the glove. _Do you still have your marks?_ he wanted to ask. _Without mine, am I still yours?_

But he couldn't bring himself to say the words. 

Then again, neither did Keith.

***

Shiro sat on the floor near the healing pod, resting his arms on his knees. Allura said Lance would have to be in there nearly two days to recover from the explosion. Two full days, because Sendak had attacked and they hadn't been able to get him into a pod in time. 

Shiro scrubbed his hands over his face. He was the leader. He'd been the one on watch when the drone had snuck past. He'd been the one unable to stop Sendak when he'd taken over the castle, and it was only thanks to Pidge that they hadn't lost entirely.

He knew, logically, what happened wasn't his fault. But it still felt like it was. 

"Hey." 

Shiro didn't need to look up to know it was Keith speaking. He shifted his position so Keith could sit beside him. "Hey." 

Keith sat, with a glance behind them at the healing pod. "You know, you should probably be in one of those, too." 

His injuries weren't that bad. Shiro was sore, yes, but he'd had far worse after fights in the arena. At least, the handful he could remember. "I'll be fine." 

He half-expected Keith to push, but instead, Keith sat back on his hands and nodded. He tossed his head back toward the healing pod. "You know he's going to be fine, too, right?" 

"I know," Shiro said, and tried for a smile. "Just had to see it for myself." 

This time, they'd been lucky. This time, they'd managed to thwart the Galra. But there would be dozens, hundreds of other times after this, where they'd have to be better. Stronger. Luckier. If Pidge hadn't been inside the barrier, if Hunk and Coran hadn't escaped the Balmera with a crystal, _if if if if if..._

Shiro pushed the thoughts away, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that it _wouldn't_ be enough. 

_I have no idea what I'm doing_ flashed through his mind, and he shoved that thought away as well. 

Keith knocked their knees together, a silent gesture of support. "Mind if I stay here with you?" 

Hope bloomed in his chest, a warm ache, and Shiro ducked his head and smiled. "Of course not." 

They lapsed into silence, the only noise coming from the soft hum of the healing pod. Shiro wondered where the others were, whether they were still working on the castle or if they'd gone on to sleep. It had been a long day for all of them. 

"You know, I broke three of your records before they booted me out of the Garrison," Keith said conversationally. 

Shiro barked out a surprised laugh. "Only three?" 

"Eh." Keith lifted a shoulder. "Would've had the rest, but..." 

"Why did you get kicked out?" Shiro asked quietly. "It wasn't grades, was it?" 

Keith shook his head. "Disciplinary issues. I..." He looked down at his lap, plucking at his pants. "I didn't take it well when we lost contact with the Kerberos mission."

Shiro's heart thudded hard.

"And then the Garrison claimed it was pilot error." Keith scoffed and clenched his fists. "I could've dealt with the mission vanishing. Eventually. I think. But I couldn't handle them blaming you for it." 

Shiro hadn't considered what the Garrison would have said about the mission disappearing; he'd had more pressing things to worry about. Still, they'd have had to come up with _some_ kind of story for the public. "I can understand why they did." 

" _I_ can't," Keith muttered. 

"Pilot error is what causes most missions to fail," Shiro said quietly. "And I'm not perfect." 

"I know that!" Keith burst out. "I know you're not perfect, but...they claimed there were rookie mistakes. Tried to say you took on too much, too fast, when anyone who'd been at the Garrison for more than a year knew that was bullshit. I just..." He sat back and exhaled sharply. "I knew it wasn't true because I know _you._ And I couldn't deal with hearing them lie about it every single day." 

"Was it really worth getting kicked out?" Shiro asked.

" _Yes_ ," Keith said fiercely. 

Shiro sat back against the healing pod. He didn't deserve this, didn't deserve Keith's unreserved loyalty, not when he had inadvertently dragged them all into this. He clenched his right fist and let his gaze drift to Keith's hands, as it so often did. 

He wanted to know, and he was still so scared of the answer. 

"Keith," he said softly. 

Keith raised his head. "What is it?" 

"I..." _Do you still have your soulmarks? Am I still yours?_

But the words wouldn't come. Shiro swallowed over a lump in his throat. "Never mind. You're right, I should probably get some sleep." 

Keith's face fell, just a fraction, and then he gave Shiro a small smile. "You should definitely get some sleep. Apparently the castle's actually a ship, and we've got a long trip ahead of us." 

Long trip. That was certainly an understatement. Shiro chuckled to himself. "True. You should get some rest, too." 

"I will," Keith said. "I promise." 

Shiro stood and winced at the way his injuries pulled. He'd have to check them before he went to sleep, but he doubted there was much he could do. "Good night, Keith." 

"Shiro." 

He paused at Keith's voice. "Hm?" 

"What were you really going to ask me?" 

He tensed. This was it. This was his opening, and yet... "We can talk about it later," he said. "After we both get some sleep."

"Okay," Keith said. "Good night, Shiro."  
_  
_

***

_  
He's the Champion. We can make him stronger, make him one of ours. He will be our greatest weapon._

_No...no, I don't want that, I don't want—_

_Do it. The Emperor will be pleased._

_No, no...not my arm NOT MY ARM—_  
  
Shiro sat straight up in his bed, gasping for air. His tank top stuck to his back, and sweat dripped down his hairline. 

His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lights in the room, the simple lines of his quarters. Desk. Bed. The outline of clothes hanging on the wall. The door to the bathroom he shared with another—empty—room. 

He wasn't with the Galra. He was on the Castle of the Lions. 

Shiro let out a shaky breath and swiped his left hand over his face. The nightmare felt too close to the surface, like it danced under his skin and if he closed his eyes for even a moment, he'd be back on that operating table, at the mercy of Haggar and the druids. 

It had been awhile since he'd had one quite that vivid. Sendak's words probably hadn't helped. Shiro was deeply, selfishly glad to be rid of him.

His room was too small, too quiet. He shoved his blankets off and padded into the hallway, down the silent corridor. 

Walking helped. Moving on his own, going where he wanted because he wanted to go there, helped. 

And the great observation decks in the castle, showing him an unlimited view of the universe through which they traveled, also helped. 

Shiro sank onto the nearest couch with a sigh and tipped his head back to watch the stars slide by. 

"My name is Takashi Shirogane," he whispered. "Everyone calls me Shiro."

It was one of his rituals after a nightmare. A reminder of everything he knew to be true, of everything he'd gone through. Reminding himself where he was, and where he'd come from. Sometimes he went to the training deck, sometimes he worked out in his room to burn off the adrenaline, but that wasn't what he needed right now. Right now, he needed reminding of what was _real_.

"I was a command pilot at the Galaxy Garrison on Earth," he told the stars. "I was abducted by the Galra during a scientific mission to Kerberos. They held me captive for a year. I escaped and returned to Earth."

And the Garrison had strapped him down to a bed, thinking him insane, drugged him to keep him compliant. 

But he remembered the touch on his face, a voice he hadn't heard in over a year slipping through to his consciousness. 

_Shiro?_

Shiro clenched his fists. "Keith saved me." 

He made himself flex his fingers, spread them wide. "We found a blue lion in the desert, with three other cadets: Lance, Pidge—Katie—and Hunk. We went through a wormhole and came out on the other side of the universe. We met Allura and Coran, and became the paladins of Voltron."

That was good. That was easy to remember, easy to put in order in his mind. "I'm the Black Paladin," he whispered. "Keith is Red. Pidge is Green. Lance is Blue. Hunk is Yellow. We fight the Galra to protect the universe."

His teammates, their colors, all slotted into place in his mind. That was real. His heartrate slowed. They hadn't been here long, but already it was something Shiro could use to anchor himself, pull himself out of the dreams. 

He dropped his gaze from the stars to his right arm, made of metal and magic. A piece of him ripped away and replaced. 

His heart twisted, and he had to close his eyes briefly. "The Galra took my right arm." He turned it over to look at the inside of his wrist, where his soulmark used to be. "My soulmark said 'yes, sir.'"

Shiro swallowed the lump in his throat, rubbing the place on his wrist where his soulmark had been. "Keith was my soulmate." 

"What do you mean ' _was'_?" 

Shiro leapt off the couch at the new voice and whirled to see Keith standing there, silhouetted by the faint light of the observation deck's open door. He hadn't even heard the door open. 

"Sorry," Shiro said. "I didn't mean to wake you." 

"You didn't." Keith walked until he was standing at the end of the couch, but didn't make a move to come any closer than that. "And you didn't answer my question." 

Even after weeks, it still threw Shiro how at first glance, Keith didn't _look_ much different from the cadet Shiro had left behind nearly two years ago. His hair was longer, sure, grown out since he'd left the Garrison, but he didn't look much taller, didn't look much broader...

And then Keith would shift his stance, and Shiro would _see._ And he would wonder how he could possibly think Keith hadn't changed at all. 

"What did you mean when you said I _was_ your soulmate?" Keith asked quietly. 

And there it was, the question Shiro had been avoiding since that morning on the bluff, since Keith had touched his shoulder and said _It's good to have you back_. He knew they needed to talk about it, had caught the looks Keith had given him—part searching, part hurt—but the words had never come.

Even now, he couldn't find them. He glanced down at his right arm and clenched his fist. 

Keith, of course, didn't miss the gesture. "Because they took your mark?" 

Shiro closed his eyes and sank back onto the couch. "It's not just my mark. It's..." 

It was his body, covered with scars he didn't remember getting. It was the white hair he saw every time he looked into a mirror, the scar across his nose. It was the knowledge that some days, he felt like a stranger to himself. It was everything. 

How could he ask anything of Keith, when the person who had been his soulmate had left Earth more than a year ago and never really returned? How could they possibly still be soulmates after everything that had happened to him?

"Shiro." 

He opened his eyes. Keith stood in front of him, and he slowly sank onto Shiro's knees, straddling his lap. Shiro stiffened, but Keith grasped his shirt, holding him there like an anchor. 

"Look at my hands," Keith whispered. 

Shiro hesitated. He didn't know what he feared more: if Keith's soulmark were gone, or if it were still there, while Shiro's wasn't. 

"Please, Shiro," Keith said. 

He made himself lower his gaze. The words were still there, stark black against his skin, and even upside down Shiro could read them. 

_Hi, I'm Takashi Shirogane, but you can call me Shiro._

It hurt to see. 

"I knew they were lying about the Kerberos mission," Keith said. "I knew they were lying when they blamed you and I knew they were lying when they said you were dead. I saw the truth on my skin every day, and I _knew_ I would find you again." 

Shiro shook his head, his throat tight. "I left—" 

"You came back," Keith whispered fiercely. "You crossed half the universe after an entire goddamn year of captivity and you found your way back to my desert. _You came back._ " 

"Keith—"

Keith touched his chin, gently but insistently, and Shiro looked up to meet his eyes. 

"Your name has been on my skin for as long as I can remember," Keith said. "That makes you _mine_. And no Galra –no _one_ —is _ever_ going to take that away." 

The ferocity in Keith's voice stunned him, and Shiro could only stare at him, unable to believe his ears. 

"If you don't...if this isn't what...if you don't want me, I understand," Keith said. "But I want to know that it's _your_ choice. Because as far as I'm concerned, you're still my soulmate. You always will be." 

Shiro reached up and folded his left hand over the one Keith still had at his cheek. "How could I not want you?" 

Keith snorted. "I've got a long list of people who thought I was too much trouble." 

Shiro scoffed. "They're all idiots." 

Keith's face softened into a genuine smile, small and real and one he never shared with anyone but Shiro. Shiro had never quite understood why; Keith's smile was a thing of beauty, like everything else about him. 

Keith took his right hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist, the same place where his soulmark used to be. The sensation sent tingles through his body; the arm was more sensitive in some ways than his original had been.

"Hold onto that for me," Keith murmured. "Until you're ready to give it back." 

Suddenly, painfully, Shiro was reminded of the last time Keith had kissed him there, when they were sitting on the roof of the Garrison, trying to figure out how to navigate their relationship amidst the rules and regulations there.

"Keith," Shiro whispered, and pulled him forward. 

It was inevitable how they slid into the kiss, and Shiro wondered if they'd ever been meant to connect another way. To find each other, to be yanked apart, to come together again, a gravitational pull stronger than any of the forces striving to separate them. 

He skimmed his hands up Keith's sides, dug them into his hair, thick and silky, like it was made for Shiro to grasp. Keith made an encouraging noise and looped his arms around Shiro's neck, scratching his nails through the short hair at the nape. 

Shiro groaned, and Keith pulled back with a devious smile. "Are you going to argue with me about this soulmate thing anymore?" 

"I don't know why I bother arguing with you about anything," Shiro muttered. 

"You argue when it's important," Keith said softly. "You get me out of my head. You believe in me when no one else does. And you're not arguing about this because you know I'm right."

He pulled one hand from behind Shiro's neck and flattened it on his chest, right over his heart. "We're still soulmates, no matter whether you have a mark."

Shiro tugged him back in for another kiss, but not before he whispered _I love you_ against Keith's lips.

***

They dozed together on the observation deck, Shiro with his head on Keith's chest. He'd made a token protest initially—he was still a solid twenty kilograms larger than Keith, possibly more with his arm now—but Keith had rolled his eyes and pulled Shiro down to him, carding his fingers through his hair. 

It hadn't been that difficult to sink into Keith's arms; the sound of his heartbeat and the steady movement of his fingers wiped away the bad dreams. 

He jolted fully back to wakefulness when it felt like an iron brand stabbed into his skin, right over his heart. 

He hissed and sat up with a curse, lashing out at the memory of Haggar and the druids, rolling himself in front of Keith to protect him. 

"Shiro!" 

Shiro blinked, shaking himself free of the dream. He was still on the observation deck, crouched in front of the couch now, right hand glowing purple and ready to fight. 

Keith gently touched his shoulder. "What happened?" 

Shiro shook his head. "Just a dream. I—" 

His skin burned again, like flames etching themselves onto his chest, and he cursed. 

"Shiro!" Keith scrambled off the couch and crouched in front of him. "What is it? What's wrong?" 

Shiro yanked his shirt off and threw it aside, rubbing at his chest like that could stop the burning. There were _scars_ there, new ones, and for one brief moment he wondered if the druids had found some way to torture him across the universe. 

Keith caught his arm. "Shiro, _wait_." 

Shiro frowned. "What?" 

But Keith was staring at his chest, frozen, the grip on his left wrist tightening with each passing moment.

"Keith?" Shiro asked tentatively. 

"Bathroom. Mirror," Keith said. "We need a mirror." 

His whole body chilled at the words, and Shiro was too stunned to do anything other than let Keith lead him out of the observation deck. 

What had the druids done to him _now_? He was lightyears out of their grasp, and yet—

Keith dragged him into the bathroom and swiped the lights on. " _Look_." 

Shiro did. 

Two words in black scrawled over his chest, right above his heart. They were backwards in the mirror, but it didn't matter. He knew them intimately; they'd been written on his right wrist for most of his life. 

_Yes, sir_. 

He touched them again, tracing the line of them, hardly daring to believe it. 

His soulmark was back. 

"It... _how?_ " Shiro couldn't tear his eyes away; he was afraid it would disappear again. "How did it come back?"

Keith met his gaze in the mirror. "I don't know."

"I've never heard of that happening." 

"Me, neither." Keith took Shiro's free hand and squeezed it. "It's...can I?" 

Shiro nodded and turned toward him. 

Keith raised his hand and swiped his thumb over the words, sending a hot tingle down Shiro's spine, and then he leaned in and kissed them. 

Shiro cursed and grabbed the edge of the bathroom counter to keep himself from gripping Keith's head and holding him there. 

Keith pulled back and arched his brow, and then his lips curved in a slight smirk. "See?" he said, flattening his hand over the mark, his palm warm against Shiro's skin. " _Mine_." 

The possessiveness in his voice was almost better than him kissing the mark. Shiro bit his lip and folded his hand over Keith's. "Yours?" 

"Always," Keith said fiercely. 

_God_ , Shiro loved him. 

He took Keith by his hips and tugged him in to kiss him properly. Keith's response was to jump and wrap his legs around Shiro's waist. Shiro caught him easily, and set Keith on the counter to kiss him as thoroughly as he could manage. 

They might have taken his arm, but they _hadn't_ taken Keith, which was the fear that had burrowed into Shiro's mind and settled there: that the druids had somehow severed the soulmate bond. That the magic they'd poured into his new arm had permanently separated him from Keith, that losing his mark had meant losing his bond entirely.

But Keith's mark was still there, and now Shiro's was, too. 

"We should take this somewhere other than the bathroom," Shiro said. 

Keith kissed his cheek, right at the corner of his scar. "My bedroom's close."

Shiro melted at the tenderness—something he didn't deserve and something Keith didn't show to anyone else—and rested his forehead against Keith's. "Sounds good."

***

Shiro lay on the narrow bed—it really _wasn't_ large enough for him and Keith, but that didn't matter because Keith was curled against his right side, one leg thrown across Shiro's and his head a warm weight on Shiro's chest. Once again, his right hand was flat over Shiro's soulmark, like he was loath to remove it, but Shiro didn't mind. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Keith's hand, across the letters there, settling it over his name on Keith's wrist. 

"I thought you didn't want me anymore," Keith whispered. 

Shiro squeezed his hand. "I thought I couldn't have you anymore. And I was too scared to find out if it were true." 

He didn't have any idea what he would've done if it _had_ been true. 

"Idiot," Keith muttered, but it sounded absurdly fond. "You've always had me. You'll always _have_ me." 

"Yes, I know that _now_." Shiro's throat tightened. "But...they took a lot from me. I couldn't have survived if they'd taken you, too." 

It was all he could bring himself to say about that time, what little he remembered. Keith lifted his head and rested his other cheek on Shiro's chest, staring at him with those huge gray eyes, the slight violet tint Shiro knew was there, even if he couldn't see it in the dim light of Keith's bunk. 

"Your name is on my skin, Takashi Shirogane," Keith whispered. "I'd like to see them fucking _try_ to take me from you. I'm yours." 

Shiro's heart thudded painfully. "You're mine?" 

Keith smiled, that soft, private smile he saved for no one but Shiro. "Of course." 

"Always?" Shiro asked. 

Keith pushed off his chest and leaned in to kiss him again. "Yes, _sir_."

**Author's Note:**

> I swear part 3 will not be angsty at all, just a fun bit of ridiculousness that was my _original_ idea for this prompt, before "oh hey soulmate AU" came in and swept me away. XD
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mad_madam_m)!


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